Doctor John Smith
by CyclopsForge
Summary: Thea had been so sure she was the one who knows Malcolm the most. That is, until the strange man calling himself Doctor John Smith came barging into the cafe where she works.


**(A/N: Hello. This one-shot takes place somewhere after season 8 of Doctor Who and also after season 2 of Arrow. Some character may be a little bit OOC but I tried my best. Though, the note from the Doctor was really OOC to me. But, enjoy. P.S. - I don't own Doctor Who and Arrow and I'm sure you all have a brain so y'all would know that none of the characters are mine. Except for Lucy, maybe.)**

**Doctor John Smith**

_"Though I am late, I will wait to go_

_Until I know you're somewhere safe_

_Even if you chose, to lock the world away_

_If I listen close, I can almost hear you say_

_Once I was here, once I was somebody's friend_

_Once I could feel, some feeling once in a while." _

_-Once by Caleb Kane_

Thea Merlyn was having a good day until the strange man came. She was working, in that cafe in Corto Maltese, where she had moved to with Malcolm Merlyn, who was supposedly her _real_ father. It had been a stressful year for Thea, having her mother killed by a crazy psychopath who was after her brother for some reason, and then she had to deal with the elder Merlyn — who had planned the Undertaking, an event that killed 503 people — being alive and well, her actual dad.

She didn't really think she'd go with Malcolm had she another choice. But she wasn't as privileged to get that other choice — she was tired of everyone lying straight to her face. At least, her 'dad' promised to not lie, and so far Thea saw no signs of him lying to her. That was what she thought, until the stranger approached her that day.

She was cleaning up a table outside the cafe, nearly at the end of her shift when she saw someone walk up to the cafe in the corner of her eye. She turned, and saw a man who had to be in his mid fifties talking to one of the fellow waitresses, holding in his hands a parcel. At first she couldn't hear what the man was saying, but then he threw one arm up in the air in frustration and disbelief.

"Seriously?" The man's raised voice drew looks from other customers. "You don't know any Captain Jack Harkness?" The waitress, Lucy, timidly shook her head. "No one with dark brown hair? Blue eyes? Cocky smirk?" The man hesitated, and Thea slowly crept up to them, curiosity growing in her. "Well, I'm going to regret saying this, but he is really charming. Tends to flirt with everyone. Ring a bell?" The man's eyes were sharp on Lucy, whose hand was starting to shake. Thea pitied the girl. She was never good with strangers; especially mad ones with eyes as sharp as a hawk's. The man had a lean to him, making himself look almost threatening despite his age. A fleeting thought crossed Thea's mind, about how he looked like a grey wolf.

Lucy shook her head again, looking nervous at the stranger's suspicious stare. "No, sir. I'm sorry."

He groaned, deflating a bit. "He didn't die his hair blond and wear eye contacts to keep a low profile, too, did he?" The man whirled around in frustration and while doing so he caught sight of Thea. His gaze seemed to bore through her, as if he was looking straight into her mind into where she hides all her secrets. "You," he said, his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised. He leaned towards her — and for one brief moment Thea considered how lanky his frame was — and pointed his index finger at her. "You're Jack's daughter, aren't you?"

Fear coursed through Thea. This man knew her, and he could possibly know that Malcolm Merlyn was alive, too. Thea pushed down her fear. She was overreacting. This man probably still thought that she was Robert Queen's daughter. However, she had heard how this man had described her father. The descriptions matched all too much, despite how the madman had called her father a 'Jack'. "Excuse me, but who exactly are you?"

As he slowly walked towards her, his eyes seemed to scrutinize her. "I'm the Doctor," he said dismissively, as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire universe.

"Doctor who?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" The so-called Doctor smiled slyly, but the smile wasn't exactly directed at her. It was as if he was sharing an inside joke with himself. "It's just…" he faltered. "Doctor John Smith. And you're Jack's daughter!" He seemed joyous enough at that fact. Then his mood darkened. "It must be very hard for him, after what happened with his other daughter."

"I don't know any Jack," replied Thea defensively. "My father's name is Robert." It was a half-truth. Robert did raise her as his daughter. "And I'm the only daughter in the family. I've only got a brother."

Doctor Smith rolled his eyes. "You'd be an idiot to believe Jack has only one descendent. He's omnisexual and very flexible. Typical 51st century guy." He rolled his sharp blue eyes again. "And no, Robert's not your real father."

Thea suddenly thought about Star Wars, when Darth Vader said, "Luke, I am your father!" _How relatable_, Thea drily remarked in her head.

"Your father is—" Doctor Smith frowned in thought. "What's the alias he uses nowadays? Maverick? Marcel? Marvin? Oh, yes! Merlyn. He's got a son in this universe, too, hasn't he? Tommy Merlyn, is it? Where is he, by the way?" He looked around the restaurant, as if Tommy was going to magically pop up out of nowhere.

Thea's patience was wearing thin. Who was this man to show up and remind her of her dead half-brother? "Tommy's dead," she deadpanned. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she asked, "How did you know that Malcolm Merlyn is my father? Actually, you know what, ignore that question. What the hell do you want?" Thea scowled at the doctor.

"Nothing, just for you to give this to him." Doctor Smith practically shoved the cuboid of a parcel into Thea's hands; having recovered from his surprise at hearing the fact Tommy was dead. "And," the middle-aged man bowed his head sadly, and when he looked up, Thea saw the regret in his eyes, "please tell him that I'm very sorry. He'll know what for."

And with that, the doctor left. He had been too quick and had the element of surprise on his side, so when Thea tried to go after him, he was already gone.

**XXX**

Thea got back to the cafe while frowning at the parcel. She had tried shaking it as she walked, but there was no sound except for soft thumps for her to expect what was inside. Though, the sounds made her wonder if it was some sort of clothing inside; it was possible that clothing material could make those sounds.

Lucy asked her what the 'strange man' had wanted. Thea just replied with a casual shrug, holding up the box in her hands.

The other waitress arched a dark brow. "Can I see what's inside?"

Thea shook her head apologetically. "Sorry, but I'd like to unpack it alone." With a smile towards Lucy, who seemed concerned but let it pass, she went to the furthest and most hidden table from other customers. Not that there was any, the cafe was closing. Fortunately, she didn't have to stay for cleanup, that was Lucy's job for today.

She could just go home and give her dad — it was still weird calling Malcolm that — the bloody package and never worry about it again, but her father has trained her to be suspicious, and a man calling himself Doctor John Smith — seriously, who the hell goes by that name? — showing up oh-so-suddenly with a gift is probably would go beyond the suspicious level of Malcolm Merlyn's. Thea imagined for a second a suspiciousness meter with the arrow shaking before it explode.

When she opened the package carefully, she came up with the worst-case scenario. To her relief, her former guess was correct. It was just a piece of clothing, a grey-blue RAF greatcoat, to be exact. Thea only knew it's name because she had joked around when shopping with her mother and brother once, that Oliver would look great in the coat. She had told him kiddingly that she'd love to see him in military-like clothes. Upon feeling a pang of loneliness and guilt at the memory, she decided to focus at the matter at hand. On the coat was a folded piece of paper that looked like it was torn off a notebook.

Not quite getting the coat out, she checked for any sign of danger inside the box. Luckily, there was no sign of any bombs, unless there was a micro-bomb lying around in one of its pockets or something. Thea's fear of being handed a bomb that would detonate in front of her face subsided, leaving her with questions and curiosity. Why had Doctor Smith want to give Malcolm a coat as a gift, assuming that that was what it was? Who was he? Why did he call Malcolm 'Captain Jack Harkness'?

The note sat there innocently, as if batting its eyelashes at her, just pleading to be read. She was sure now that this was quite a personal thing of her father's. And she was also certain that if she read the note, Malcolm would totally slaughter her. Then again, she was the cat that curiosity had killed. Her need to know overpowered her fear of her father's wrath. After all, he had promised no more lies or secrets. What would one call this?

Unfolding the note, she began to read.

**XXX**

"Dad!"

Malcolm was reading the newspaper, sipping his evening tea — funny that he preferred tea nowadays, because coffee reminded him too much of a certain Ianto Jones. He knew that this was always the time Thea came home, but she was a little late today. He had kept glancing at the mansion's door from the living room. He had his back towards it, as usual. Thea liked to sneak up on him every evening, but never succeeded. He encouraged her to try harder every time.

Today, however, Thea basically bounded inside, nearly shouting for him. He was alert at once, his posture ready for an attack. When he saw no immediate danger, he dropped his posture, but remained tense and ready to attack at any second should there be any surprise threats.

"What's that?" he asked, gesturing towards the box in Thea's hands.

Thea, momentarily distracted by her father's reaction, glanced at the package. "Oh, this. There was this man; he stopped by the cafe earlier. He said his name was Doctor John Smith." At this, Thea stopped for a bit, searching Malcolm's face for any sign of recognition. She got none, because he was frowning as if trying to place who that was.

She didn't see, how his eyes suddenly widen as realization dawned on him, hitting him like a truck that was going a hundred miles per hour. Doctor, as in _the _Doctor. John Smith was the Doctor's alias. His blood ran cold, an every inch of him screamed at him to run, far away and never look back. But Thea was not done talking; neither could he stomp down that little flare of excitement in his heart.

"Anyway, he—"

"Wait." Malcolm held up a finger. "This man, is there any chance he's got very messy brown hair, a very cute face and wears Converse shoes with a pinstriped suit?" he said, interrupting his daughter. He couldn't help the sense of excitement that he usually got when the Doctor was back within his reach — it was irritating — and he was curious to see if the Time Lord had regenerated again in his absence.

Thea frowned at him strangely. "No. He had gray hair, and he wears this Crombie suit with red lining. He wasn't wearing Converse sneakers. I don't think he's cute; he's got to be at least in his early fifties or something. Why, do you know him?"

Inwardly, Malcolm smiled. No surprise that he couldn't keep a face for too long. But who was he to know? It could've been a thousand years for that man. "I might. Continue," he said.

"So, this _John_," his daughter met his eyes almost accusingly, as if he was somehow the offending reason for the obviously fake name, "asked one of the waitresses if she knows any Captain Jack Harkness. She didn't. But then he saw me, and said that I was this Jack's daughter. Then he also explained that this Jack is actually an alias that you use? Or wait, I think it was the other way around. If what he said was true, then he also mentioned that you are an omnisexual and you have another daughter. But he seemed really regretful when he mentioned that. The latter part, I mean."

He suppressed a growl. How dare that Time Lord? The Doctor had ran away from him, told him that he was wrong by just existing, rejected him over and over again, and then he had failed to show up when the world needed him most. When _Jack_ needed him most. And the Time Lord's absence had led to his lover dying in his arms because of poison alien gas, sacrificing his own grandson, and then said action led to him losing his daughter, too. He had sworn that the Doctor wouldn't be getting his forgiveness any time soon. Visiting Thea and spilling his secrets was just crossing the lines again.

"He also said that he was very sorry and he said you'd know what for." Thea stared on with the same accusing expression at him. "Is this all true, dad?"

He deflected the question as easily as he would've deflected her blade in a fight. "You still haven't answered my question. What is that?" he asked again, jabbing his thumb at the box that was still clutched in his daughter's hands.

"A little present, I think. Doctor Smith gave it to me to give to you. I might've peeked inside." She held up one hand defensively. "I had to make sure there was no bombs inside. And I found a note along with your present, but I didn't read it. Well, maybe I did. Woops, sorry." Malcolm saw in his daughter's eyes that she expected him to be mad at her or scold her or something.

Instead, he sighed and gently took the parcel from Thea. Maybe he'd chide her for reading somebody else's business without permission, but now was not the time. "We'll talk about this later, okay? I need to be alone for the moment."

Thea scoffed. "Yeah, no. In my opinion, maybe you need to get laid or something."

"Thea!" he scolded as he was walking away.

"Didn't say anything," she sing-sang. He didn't get far away before she asked loudly, "Wait, are you really omnisexual?"

Malcolm considered not answering and scolding Thea again, but he had a better idea. He threw a smirk at Thea, and said, "I was."

He left Thea slack-jawed, blinking at the answer. He chuckled quietly on the way to his bedroom. Although it was the master bedroom in the house, he liked to call it just his bedroom and not a 'master' bedroom. That word alone stir up painful memories within him. Like the mansion, his room was just as grand.

As soon as he closed the door, he abruptly stopped laughing and stared at the package in his hands. Thea had not mentioned what exactly his gift was, but she had said something about the Doctor leaving a note inside this box. Part of him want to tear it open and yell at it, whatever 'it' was. Part of him wanted to throw the gift out of the window and curse the Doctor for abandoning him countless times. Part of him wanted to go back to the living room, and chuck it in the fireplace and let it burn. But there was that little part of him that somehow won, and that rational part told him to be calm and open the box, with no yelling included. Thea was still in the house. That part was combined with that small part of him from the past that had stayed, the one that gets all happy-puppy when the Doctor is involved.

So he slowly opened the box, but with closed eyes. He reached in for the contents. One of his hands grabbed a piece of paper. _The note_, he thought. His other hand touched… soft material. His heart skipped a beat. "No," he whispered. "Hell no. No way."

He didn't need to look. He knew that material like he knows his skin. The material of his favorite piece of clothing. Cracking his eyes open, he realized that he couldn't see any better than when his eyes were closed because tears had started to well up. One slid traitorously down his cheek. A small bubble of anger rose in his chest and he crumpled the paper, throwing it to the far side of the room like a child having a temper-tantrum. He brought his coat up to his face, his tears dampening the dark collar, clutching at the coat as if it was his life.

_It _is_ my life_, Malcolm thought bitterly. _Once_.

His RAF greatcoat shockingly still smelt of him. No, not like him, like Jack. Because warm and loving Captain Jack Harkness who was once the savior of Earth was gone, replaced by the cold stone of Malcolm Merlyn.

_Too much sacrifice and too much loss can make the heart stone._

_But then how did the Doctor not reduce into a mass murder?_

The 51st century pheromones were all he could smell on his coat, and it smelt nice. The coat had brought old memories to the surface and more tears spilled down his face. He felt like he didn't deserve to wear it; the coat was like a symbol of honor. But it provided him the warmth that he hadn't felt in decades, especially after Rebecca's death. Rebecca helped him heal from the loss of Ianto, but then he had lost her, too.

He shrugged it on, remembering how he left the coat before he travelled off the Earth. When he had done that, he had promised himself to put everything behind and start new, so it also meant leaving his uniform behind. He missed it a lot over the years. It took him a while to adjust to being without it. It had felt very weird; he felt almost naked without it.

But then here it was again, courtesy of the Doctor, for some reason.

His hate for the old Time Lord had somewhat vanished a bit. And alike his daughter, he had a strong sense of curiosity. He moved to retrieve the crumpled-up ball of paper. Malcolm smoothened the paper, and taking a deep shaky breath, he started to read.

_Dear Jack,_

_I know you hate me. I don't blame you for doing so. Sometimes, I hate myself, too. I just wanted to give this coat back to you, because Martha gave it to me when I visited Earth. She was crying, you know. I promised her I would get it to you. On a side note, she was rather astonished by my appearance. I've regenerated again since I've last met you, Jack. I wear bow ties now. Bow ties are cool._

_I visited Gwen, too! Martha directed me to her. She's got a baby girl. Gwen, I mean. They — Martha and Gwen, I mean — both sends you their regards and they hope you'll return, one day. But I know you've got a daughter now, so that one day won't happen soon._

_Donna and Rose are still living their life normally. I found three other companions in this regeneration. Amy, Rory (they're married, lovely couple) and Clara. As I'm writing this, I think I'll be dying of old age soon. I'm out of regenerations. I don't even know why I'm writing this because how will I ever get this letter to you if I'm dead? I guess we're all hoping for a miracle._

_Oh and by the way, you missed that time the TARDIS got to be a woman. Long story, she loved to be called 'Sexy'. She's back in the blue box form. I also got married! Her name's River Song. You'd love her._

_Jack, I'm very sorry for what happened to your team. Everything that happened was a fixed point. I know you won't forgive me, and I don't blame you, because sometimes I don't think I can forgive myself, either._

_Goodbye, Jack. I hoped we would see each other again._

_-The Doctor_

_P.S. - If we meet again next time, you better tell me how you end up in this universe from a cold fusion freighter._

_P.P.S. - Immortality is hard, Jack, but don't make it harder by being a murderer. One day all those deaths you've caused will catch up to you and it's not going to be nice._

_P.P.P.S. - I regenerated. Long story, Time Lords gave me another regeneration. I don't wear bow ties anymore. Those are embarrassing!_

Malcolm tried to summon his hate for the Doctor, but to no avail. His hatred had burned out, leaving him feeling like inviting his old Time Lord friend to the pub and chat about their lives over a pint. He briefly wondered if Time Lords could get drunk. Probably not.

He stood and walked to a mirror. He checked how the coat looked on him now. Granted, he was not wearing a blue button-up shirt with suspenders, but his collared black shirt and jeans of the same color didn't do too badly. His gelled-up hair was too Merlyn-like, so he combed it with his fingers to make it more like Jack's spiky bangs. His features were too serious so he curled his lips in Jack's lopsided grin.

His blue eyes weren't the same humorous ones. They had turned stone cold and even with the cocky upturn of his mouth, his face just looked… heartless.

The Doctor was right. Being immortal doesn't mean he could just go around killing people. Maybe, just maybe, he'd change like Oliver did after Tommy's death. Maybe not so suddenly but little by little, he was almost certain he could do it.

But right now he had an idea. He could picture a light bulb hanging above his head in the mirror. His grin stayed plastered on his face, much more honest this time, as he bounded out of his room to run to his daughter's room, rapping his knuckles on her door. Thea swung it open after he heard her footsteps padding towards the door. Her expression was annoyed and she immediately said, "What?"

Then she saw what he was wearing and her face turned into one of disbelief. After a moment of startled confusion as she took in his hairstyle, grin and clothes, she burst into a fit of giggles. Malcolm joined her laughing. "Your hair's all sharp and weird. And you've got this thing on your face. It looks like a smile." She gestured at his coat. "Why are you even wearing that?"

"How do I look?" he asked, grin widening.


End file.
